To the ocean I am nothing
All my weight dissolved
It is no effort for this giant
To bear me on her shoulders
And here we shall wander
With my aching arms spread wide
Nine of ten of me held under
And still one of me alive
Past toddlers with their floaters
And tattooed, bearded men
Drawing them from the water
As they squeal Again! Again!
Will you set me down here in the shallows
Till I'm ready, my ocean friend?
This poem appears in
Wire Walkers
© Brendan Bonsack
April 2015